


i'm gonna win this time

by stars_on_the_ceiling



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: A little Angst!, Anal Sex, Fingering, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Popstar Louis, but mostly just cute boys being cute, but not really between them, mostly - Freeform, radio nick, some talk about closeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 13:37:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_on_the_ceiling/pseuds/stars_on_the_ceiling
Summary: There was just breathing on the other end of the phone as Nick tried to get his eyes to focus on the clock by his bed. The number that had called him wasn’t in his contacts, but it was 3 a.m., he’d been dead asleep and he didn’t want to chance missing an emergency.“Hello?” Nick tried again. His brain was starting to click on and he pulled the phone away to glance at the lit up screen. He didn’t even recognize the area code. Just his luck some prank caller or pervert had gotten his number and was getting their jollies off on waking him up in the middle of the fucking night. He was about to hang up, roll over and forget the whole thing when there was a hitch in the person’s breathing. It was tiny, but noticeable, a swallowed sob.“Nick.”The voice was not much more than a whisper. Nick caught an accent, and he almost recognized it. But his brain was still sleep-fogged, slow and lagging three paces behind. He pressed the heel of his hand into his eye and willed himself to blink out of the haze.“It’s um… It’s…” the voice said and everything within him sharpened, pulled tight. He knew what was coming next. He’d placed the accent. “It’s um Louis. Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson.”





	i'm gonna win this time

**Author's Note:**

> This is in a somewhat altered universe where one direction doesn't exist, and louis is just a solo popstar! Hope you enjoy!

There was just breathing on the other end of the phone as Nick tried to get his eyes to focus on the clock by his bed. The number that had called him wasn’t in his contacts, but it was 3 a.m., he’d been dead asleep and he didn’t want to chance missing an emergency.

“Hello?” Nick tried again. His brain was starting to click on and he pulled the phone away to glance at the lit up screen. He didn’t even recognize the area code. Just his luck some prank caller or pervert had gotten his number and was getting their jollies off on waking him up in the middle of the fucking night. He was about to hang up, roll over and forget the whole thing when there was a hitch in the person’s breathing. It was tiny, but noticeable, a swallowed sob.

“Nick.”

The voice was not much more than a whisper. Nick caught an accent, and he almost recognized it. But his brain was still sleep-fogged, slow and lagging three paces behind. He pressed the heel of his hand into his eye and willed himself to blink out of the haze.

“It’s um… It’s…” the voice said and everything within him sharpened, pulled tight. He knew what was coming next. He’d placed the accent. “It’s um Louis. Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson.”

The words were all jagged and broken, a tremor running along the edges of them, and Nick’s chest felt hollow for reasons he couldn’t name. What the fuck did he care if Louis Tomlinson sounded scared? Sad? They barely even acknowledged each other in the rare instances they were forced to hang out because of their overlapping friend groups. Louis was a little shit who seemed to revel in jumping on all Nick’s buttons. And Nick didn’t think Louis particularly enjoyed his company either.

So… what the fuck?

“Um, hello,” Nick said, because he wasn’t a huge knob. “Alright, love?”

His voice was gravel and it reminded him of how late it was. He glanced at the clock again. 3:03 a.m. He’d have to be up again in two hours. Still. He waited out the silence on the other end.

“No,” came the answer, finally, and panic slid into Nick’s bloodstream.

“Louis, are you hurt? Do you need me to---“

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Louis interrupted, a sob-tinged, self-depreciating laugh accompanying the denial, undercutting it. “I’m sorry, fuck I’m such a… this was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Nick winced at each apology. He’d known Louis for years and the boy had never once apologized to him. This wasn’t how Nick wanted it to be. “No, love. It’s fine. I just … you’re not hurt?”

“No.” Louis sounded so little. The hollowness in Nick’s chest throbbed and he pressed his open palm to his sternum, trying to rub it away.

“Alright,” he said. It was a little easier to relax back into the warmth of his pillow when he knew he wasn’t going to have to call in an emergency.

“You must think I’m nutters,” Louis said into the silence Nick had let sit.

“Nope,” Nick assured him. “Not thinking much of anything right now.”

“And that’s different how…?” Louis snarked, but the usual sharp edges were dulled by the emotion that still coated his voice. “Sorry, habit.”

Nick laughed, more a startled release of nerves and confusion than any kind of humor. “S’alright.”

“It’s not, I’m being a proper dick, and woke you up in the … it’s the middle of the night, right?”

“Edging toward dawn I’d say,” Nick hummed a little bit. “Where are you?”

There was a pause, some ruffling. Then, “New York.”

So not too late there. Which didn’t necessarily rule out a drunk dial, but made it slightly less likely. “That’s nice.”

“Not really,” Louis said, but his voice sounded stronger. “Had a shit day.”

“Yeah?” They didn’t do this. Nick hadn’t even realized Louis had his phone number. Even when they crossed paths they didn’t try to talk, small or otherwise, beyond a few quips here and there that neither of them seemed to be able to resist.

“Bunch of headlines. Tweets and bloggers,” Louis said, skirting around whatever the problem was. Nick closed his eyes trying to remember if he’d seen anything particular in his last check before bed. But nothing came to mind. “Someone dug up some old shit. Saying I’m … homophobic.”

“Oh,” Nick stared at the ceiling. “Louis.”

Nick had suspected of course. Everyone did, really. That Louis was gay. It had never been confirmed by anyone, and Nick assumed it was none of his business who Louis liked to sleep with.

International pop stardom didn’t leave a lot of wiggle room for dubious sexuality, though. Louis’ homophobic image had followed him, a whisper behind open palms, for the entirety of his career ever since he’d gotten big at 18.

There was that little hitch again, interrupting the silence. But this time it wasn’t just one hiccup of a breath. It was followed by another and then another, like Louis was desperately trying to hold onto his composure and was just on the edge of failing spectacularly.

“Oh, love, it’s alright,” Nick said quietly and had the insane urge to hop on a flight just so that he could wrap Louis in his arms. Which was the stupidest thing he’d ever thought in his whole entire life.

The gentle reassurance seemed to be the straw that broke Louis. Because, the floodgates opened after that, and all Nick could do was hum soft endearments into the phone. That hollow feeling was spreading—to his lungs, his belly, his heart. He’d never felt more helpless or useless or anything.

It was another few minutes that stretched into an eternity when Louis finally quieted. A few more sniffles, a hiccup of air and then just quiet breathing, like when Nick had first answered the phone.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Nick said, knowing it was insufficient. He hadn’t been sure how much Louis was alright with his closet. This seemed to be a big fucking signal that he wasn’t on board with it at all.

“Fuck,” Louis breathed out, and Nick could tell he was all snotty and teary still. “Fuck.”

And then Louis hung up.

When Nick tried to call back he was sent to voicemail. He stared at his phone for a solid ten minutes and then added Louis to his contacts.

***

The next time Nick saw Louis, the popstar clearly wanted to pretend the late-night call hadn’t happened. And Nick really would have chalked it up to a fever dream from the bad curry the night before if Louis’ number wasn’t sitting in his contacts, his name next to three prawn emojis.

They were at some posh club, the friends of the friends having drug both of them along in separate groups. Some of those friends --- and Louis Nick supposed – were madly rich so they had a table in the back and too many bottles of good liquor that went down to easy. Nick stuck with the champagne. From the corner of his eyes – because if Louis wasn’t going to acknowledge him, Nick certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge Louis—he watched the popstar down shots of something clear and probably high in alcohol percentage.

Then he was gone, off to the dance floor. Not that Nick was tracking him or anything. It was just that Louis looked good. Really good. He was wearing black skinny jeans that might as well have been painted on. Nick wanted to get lost in the deep crease between his thigh and his arse. Louis’ shirt was black, but the soft material was so thin it was nearly transparent. Nick could see the curve of his spine, his tummy, his chest. His hair was soft, falling across this forehead in a choppy fringe, and there was just enough scruff on his jaw to have Nick imagining thigh burn.

Across the distance it was impossible to see Louis’ eyes, but Nick almost could believe that he kept flicking his gaze in Nick’s direction. He was surrounded by people, girls because of who he was, boys because it was a club. But he wasn’t paying attention to any of them.

Beneath the strobing lights, Louis danced, just for himself. His hips swayed, his arms stretched, his arse dipped to the beat. Nick couldn’t tear his eyes from the sliver of tan belly Louis revealed, couldn’t stop himself from caressing every inch of him, his plump thighs, the give of his waist, his neck, tipped back.

Coughing, Nick adjusted himself in his own tight trousers. Fuck. Louis was sex in motion, and Nick wanted to take him apart, wanted to suck him, wanted to fuck him, be fucked by him, it didn’t fucking matter if he could just dig his fingertips into that golden, sparkling skin.

Just then, Louis opened his eyes, his face blissed out. He tilted his head, and gestured, just a quick movement that Nick almost missed.

But he was so attuned to the boy now. Like a flip had switched with that call. Every cell in his body vibrated, aching to be pressed up against the warmth, the softness, the curves.

Nick was across the room, and Louis was laughing at him. Careful about distance--there were people around after all--Nick edged as close as he dared, his fingertips trailing along the hem of that ridiculous shirt.

Louis was back to ignoring him, or fake ignoring him at least. But Nick didn’t care. They were here, dancing together. Nick could smell the heady combination of musk and expensive cologne and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in Louis’ neck, lave at the skin there, bite down and leave a mark so noticable everyone would know Louis was taken care of.

The beat dropped and Louis shifted back, so that he was pressed against Nick’s chest, his arse nestled in Nick’s groin. Nick froze, wondering if he was having an aneurysm. His cock twitched, though, and that made him think his blood flow was just fine.

For the briefest heartbeat, Louis pushed back, let his head fall against Nick’s shoulder, snaked a hand up around the nape of Nick’s neck into the damp edges of his hair. Nick groaned, heat flaring in his pelvis and radiating out. He dropped his lips to the exposed skin near Louis’ collarbone, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the space above his tattoo.

Louis sighed, brushed his lips against Nick’s jaw. And then he was gone.

Nick was left fully hard, clutching air in the middle of the dance floor.

***

It was another two weeks before Nick saw Louis again. He’d opened countless numbers of text messages to the boy, but always ended up tossing his phone and burying his head in the nearest soft surface to scream his frustration.

He was still wanking himself raw at the memory of the dance. So brief. So fucking life changing. Before, Nick had thought about Louis every so often while having a tug. The guy was gorgeous, okay? But he’d never really stuck around in his mind. Except when they were warring over Twitter. Or for a couple days after dinner parties or award shows where they were forced to interact. And okay, Nick was coming to realize he’d had a huge fucking crush on Louis Tomlinson and had just managed to convince himself it wasn’t real.

What stayed in Nick’s mind the most, though, more so than the frankly erotic display of Louis’ body, was the quiet hitch in his voice when he was trying not to cry. Nick wondered how many people had heard that little hiccup of breath. He guessed not many. It made him want to protect the boy from all the evils in the world. And he really didn’t quite know how to deal with that. So he didn’t.

He pretended it wasn’t a thing, until he was forced to interact with Louis once again. Nick wasn’t sure if his friends had caught on that night at the club, but it certainly felt like there were extra eyes watching both of them as the maneuvered around each other at the fucking housewarming party that had been unavoidable (the guilt alone would have eaten him alive).

Finally by midnight, Nick was just tipsy enough that he didn’t want to pretend anymore. Louis was holed up in the kitchen, entertaining a small crowd with one story after another. Now that Nick was looking deeper, he could tell the outgoing, energetic mask hid deeper waters. What was beneath, Nick wasn’t sure. But he was starting to realize he wanted to find out.

As casually as he could, he walked by the group, catching Louis’ eyes. Their gazes held for a minute, a day, a century. And then broke as Nick continued out through the sliding doors into the small garden beyond the house.

There was a patio before it all turned into grass, and Nick found himself a bit of shadow to stretch out in. And then he waited.

It didn’t take long. Maybe five minutes. And then Louis was there, sitting down so that his outer thigh pressed against Nick’s hip. Nick turned his head from where he’d been looking up at the stars, and found a far more beautiful sight.

If he wasn’t absolutely certain Louis would literally punch him in the balls for saying it, the sappy words would have tumbled out of his mouth. Instead he just dug in his pocket and held up a tight joint, wiggling it around in offering.

Louis’ face broke out in a grin as he produced a lighter somehow Almost magically. After getting it all sorted, Louis took a deep drag, and tipped his face toward the night sky. Nick wanted to lick his neck. He immediately shook his head at the thought.

He took the joint back when Louis handed it over, blowing out an elegant trail of smoke in a practiced move that made Nick want to swallow his tongue with how hot it was.

Instead, he took his own hit, praying the weed would take some of the edge off.

“You alright?” he finally asked. It was the first words they’d spoken to each other since the phone call. Which seemed odd. But he thought back. Louis had talked around him, next to him, about him, at the club, but not to him.

“Sorry bout that,” Louis muttered, and Nick thought if he looked up at the boy he’d see a flush along his cheekbones. As it was, Louis was turned away, his fingers viciously fixing his soft fringe.

“S’Okay,” Nick said. Because it was. Now that he was no longer pretending to be indifferent to Louis, he wanted nothing more than to be the person Louis called in the middle of the night during a crisis. Where his attraction for Louis flared bright and sharp and wild, that feeling, that idea that Louis wanted to come to him for help, was slow, syrupy and sweet. He wanted to bathe in it, live in it.

He didn’t say anything else though, didn’t move, terrified that he’d scare Louis off.

So they sat in silence that wasn’t quite tense and wasn’t quite comfortable either and shared the joint down to the last hit.

“I came out to my mum,” Louis said, his gaze locked on the stars. “Like. Proper. She said she knew but…” he trailed off with a shrug.

Nick’s chest felt way too big for his skin and he blinked hard, blaming the sudden rush of emotion on the weed. “That’s… that’s so great, Lou. If that’s what you wanted.”

Louis chewed on his bottom lip. “Did. Yeah. Wanted that.”

“Are you going to… come out?” Nick asked and immediately wanted to bite off his tongue. He just… he wanted Louis to talk to him, share confidences.

Louis shifted, and Nick wanted to cry with the loss of him already, so soon. But instead of leaving like Nick had guessed he would do, Louis laid down beside him, not touching, but close enough to feel his warmth.

Honeysuckle curled around them and Nick shivered just a little in the cool night air. But everything in him was vibrating again.

“Might, yeah,” Louis finally said. “Label doesn’t want me to. But my contract is up at the end of the year.”

Nick didn’t want to say it but he did anyway. “They might blacklist you, love.”

“I know,” Louis wasn’t looking at him. Hadn’t really looked at him at all. But then Nick felt something brush his hand. He glanced down in time to see Louis link his little finger over Nick’s pinkie. It was the smallest point of contact they could have and yet it felt like everything.

***

After that, Louis started showing up at Nick’s door unannounced. The first time it had happened, Nick was in his rattiest pair of joggers--it was laundry day, thank you--and a shirt that had no fewer than fourteen holes in it. Including one over his nipple. Louis had laughed and then quick as lightning reached out and twisted the exposed nub.

As Nick was still sorting through the complicated emotions that had created -- lust, pain, embarrassment, affection -- Louis headed to the kitchen to make tea.

Their first date -- which Nick absolutely did not say was a date out loud -- was spent with takeaway on the couch, Louis’ feet in Nick’s lap, Nick’s fingers at the nape of Louis’s neck. They watched four hours of the Bake Off and then Louis had patted his cheek and left before Nick could even think about a snog.

Their second date was a long drive in the car. Which didn’t sound terribly romantic to Nick, but Louis had texted him that he needed to escape the city and the next thing Nick knew, he was driving a rented SUV down the country lanes of a no-name village an hour south of London. Louis had brought his personal iPod and plugged it into the stereo system.

Nick hadn’t thought much of it until Louis’ sweet, raspy voice filled the space, the easy slide of it pressing into all of the nooks and crannies. The first time Louis played the song Nick was too caught off guard to even listen to the words. When Louis replayed it without protest, Nick’s hand found its way onto the boy’s thigh, his thumb digging into the flesh there. Louis didn’t flinch, didn’t move.

~I think I’m going to win this time.~

They didn’t talk much right after that. Other than Nick effusively promising that he loved the song. But by the time Nick swung into a petrol station, Louis was chattering madly again, playing Nick snippets of his favorite classic songs and going on at length about the reason he liked each one even as he moved on to play the next.

Nick grinned and when Louis paused, Nick threw him his own phone. “Pull up Favorites,” he told Louis. And then they were back on the motorway. They drove until the stars came out, they drove until they hit the cliffs in the south. Then they sat on the hood, the engine still warm beneath their butts, and talked about stupid things. Like ice cream flavors and what time period would be the best to live in (mint chocolate and Pyramids for Louis, caramel and Regency London for Nick). They talked about not stupid stuff, too. Like Louis telling his sisters he was gay, and telling his best mate he was going on a date tonight. Nick’s persistent fear he was disappointing his mum by not being settled down yet.

The sun crept over the horizon and Nick’s eyes were gravel. He yawned and tugged Louis closer. The boy had settled in against his chest after they’d dug out a blanket from the car. Louis tipped his face up, his blinking slow and sleepy. They’d need to get coffee or at least find a place to kip for a bit.

Now, though, Nick could only think about Louis’ lips. He ducked his head, pressing his mouth against them, soft so soft it was almost a whisper, barely a touch. They breathed each other in then, still and reverent in the golden light of dawn. It was like they both knew this was something. Something more.

Then Louis sighed and pushed up so that they were properly kissing, all slick tongues and warm mouths. Nick’s hips fluttered against Louis’ but he was too tired to do anything beyond seek closeness, seek pressure. When they pulled apart finally, Louis’ lips were swollen, pink and delightful. His eyes were wide, pupils big and dark. And Nick thought he could live in that moment forever.

***

It wasn’t until they’d been doing whatever they’d been doing for three weeks that Nick brought up the call.

They were at Nick’s, on his back patio, sharing a joint. They couldn’t go out much, since the paps would get ideas and the trash would start theorizing and Louis wasn’t out yet. So. They were somewhat limited. Not that Nick minded at all. He would watch paint dry, if it meant he could do it with Louis.

Louis was leaning against Nick’s chest, his hips nestled in between Nick’s thighs, both of their hands tangled together, resting against Louis’ legs.

“Love?” Nick asked, gentle as he could. He dipped his chin down so that it was resting against Louis’ shoulder.

“Hmmm?” Louis rubbed his cheek against Nick’s like a cat. Nick grinned, but then sobered just as quick.

“Can I ask you…”

Louis’ body had already stiffened against his, and Nick wanted to back pedal so fast, wanted to reassure the boy that he wouldn’t bring it up, ever. But a small part of him wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.

“Why did you call me? That first night?”

If anything, Louis went sharper, his shoulders going taut, his legs coming up like he was getting ready to flee from the lounger. Nick tightened his grip on Louis’ hands and tried to think calming thoughts.

After a few minutes of loaded silence, Louis finally relaxed. “I wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t too close to it. You know? You wouldn’t out me. But you wouldn’t be all… I didn’t have to explain it to you.”

Nick held his breath and nodded, afraid to say the absolute wrong thing in the moment and send Louis running.

“Like if I’d called me best mate, it would have been A Thing,” he said it in a way that Nick could tell it was in capital letters. “Or me mum. There would have been crying.” he paused and shifted. “I mean from her.”

Nick pressed his thumbs against the top of Louis’ hand and stroked at the soft skin there. “Yeah.”

“You were like… you would just listen,” Louis huffed, obviously struggling to put it into words. But Nick thought he got it. Often, it was easier for people to come out to strangers or acquaintances than it was to their nearest and dearest. Louis didn’t really have that option. And that left Nick.

“Plus…”

Holding his breath, Nick nudged Louis with his knee to get him to continue.

There was a smile in his voice as he did, and most of the tension had completely seeped from his body. “I had a stupid crush on you.”

“Yeah?” Nick couldn’t contained his delighted grin and he knew Louis felt it against his jaw.

He knocked his head back against Nick’s and Nick winced but didn’t let go of his boy. His wonderful boy.

“You had a crush on me too,” Louis said, petulant, but Nick heard the vulnerability.

“Massive,” Nick confirmed and bit at his favorite spot just along Louis’ neck.

***

They fucked that night for the first time. Like subconsciously they’d been waiting to clear the air. It was hot, sweaty. Desperate hands and searching tongues, grinding hips and flushed, leaking cocks.

“Fingers, god I want your fucking fingers,” Louis gasped, and Nick was already sliding down toward his hips, clutching the lube. They both groaned as Nick sunk his first finger inside Louis’ tight warmth. It was maddening and delicious and the little sounds it tugged out of Louis were recorded on Nick’s brain for eternity.

Nick rubbed his scruff against Louis’ thick, golden thighs as he pushed another finger in, one hand holding Louis spread wide so that he was on display for Nick.

His hole was greedy and pink and beautiful, his balls sitting high and tight against the base of his red-tipped cock. Nick took his fill and Louis sighed an almost embarrassed “oh my god” throwing an arm over his own eyes. But Nick didn’t care. He wanted to devour every vulnerable part of Louis. Wanted to live here, in the space between his glorious thighs, three fingers deep in his arse as his cock twitched and smeared pre-come against his soft belly.

It was the best thing Nick had ever experienced. That was until he sunk into Louis fully. It wasn’t even the heat and tightness around Nick’s cock that would stick with him. But rather the way their eyes locked as he bottomed out, his balls coming to rest against Louis, his hips pressing at Louis’ inner thighs, his hands cupping his jaw. There was sweat dripping from him, and it probably should be filthier than it was, but Nick’s chest was too tight, and his pulse was too fast, and all he could think was ... mine.

They paused in that moment, their eyes locked, a million emotions passing between them. Then Louis blinked hard, reached around and slapped Nick on the arse. “Get a move on, Grimmy.”

Nick laughed so hard, he almost collapsed onto Louis, who was smiling fondly up at him, his hand clutching Nick’s against the mattress. This. This was how sex was meant to be, Nick thought as he fucking got a move on.

***

Louis said I love you for the first time by accident. Nick could tell by the way his face completely seized up.

They were in the middle of some stupid fucking argument because Nick was sad Louis was about to leave for tour and Louis was sad too and so they fought instead of just … holding each other or something.

It was over some stupid thing-- Louis not calling Nick to let him know he hadn’t been coming over the night before.

“I waited up for you,” Nick said, annoyed because it had been a weeknight and he’d ordered takeaway and then only’d gotten four hours of sleep before he’d been up for radio.

“Did I ask you to?”

“No, but you’re over here more nights than not,” Nick said, without thinking.

Louis flushed red. “Don’t have to be.”

“Don’t be a wanker,” Nick threw up his hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Louis’ insecurity. “You know I want you here.”

“How am I supposed to know that? Huh? You never say.”

Nick gaped at him, his mouth probably doing something unattractive and fish-like. “What?”

“You just let me come over and bother you but you don’t ever invite me,” Louis said, his eyes on the floor, his arms crossed over his chest. “How am I supposed to know?”

“Jesus, Lou…” Nick didn’t even know what to say to that, it was so far off the mark.

“No,” Louis looked up pointing at him. He was proper angry now. “I fucking love you alright? And you’ve never even asked me on a date. How the fuck am I supposed to know you’re in this?”

That’s when he’d frozen up, his jaw going a bit slack, regret apparent. If Nick had let him, Louis would have fled, his body already turned toward the door.

Nick was across the room in three strides, his fingers curling around Louis’ wrist, his hand cupping the back of his head, his hips pressed against Louis’. “You fucking idiot.”

Then he kissed Louis, because he couldn’t not. It was everything he ever wanted in his life.

He pulled back, running his thumb along Louis’ cheekbone. Louis’ eyes were damp but no tears had spilled over, thank fuck. Nick didn’t know what he’d do with a crying Louis in his arms. Probably drag him to bed, cuddle around him and never let him go.

“I love you, you fucking knob,” Nick said, but gently, so gently. “I haven’t wanted to push, you know, because you’re not out. But I’m here for whatever you want, love. Always have been.”

Louis chewed on his lower lip. “We’re boyfriends.”

Warmth spread throughout Nick’s chest. “Kay.”

Louis’ eyes narrowed. “Exclusive.” Nick honked out a laugh. As if he’d even thought about anyone else since Louis had called him that first night.

“A hundred percent.”

There was a beat. And then Louis dragged in a shuddering breath. “And you have to ask me on a date. A proper one.”

Nick grinned, and bit at Louis’ earlobe. “Hmm, that’s a dealbreaker.”

“Wanker,” Louis cried out, pushing at Nick’s chest.

Somehow they ended up sprawled on the ground, Louis laying on top of Nick, his forearms resting against Nick’s chest, both of them giggly and bright, high of their confessions.

“Hey,” Nick said, dragging his thumb along Louis’ jaw, his eyebrow, the slope of his cheekbone. “I’m all in. All in. For as long as you’ll have me.”

“And if that's forever?" Louis' voice was light as if he was teasing. But his eyes were dark, serious.

Nick pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Then it's forever."

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](https://starsontheceilingfics.tumblr.com/post/174678674612/im-gonna-win-this-time-5k-tomlinshaw-there-was) :) <3


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